Being Woman in Europe

As you know, we are in Europe. In the refugee camp, dreaming about moving to our own house kept our hopes alive. Because of my belief that our life will be organised after moving to our own house, I had a desire the life I wanted. Making myself targets, getting excited with the dream of an organised life.

However, the result wasn’t the one I dreamed of. Now we live in our own house. Having a kitchen stabbed my dreams. Like people on diet seeing a piece of delicious chocolate, my efforts of plans ended in that kitchen. I couldn’t get out of that kitchen. One long year without any concern of ‘what to cook’ lasted with terrible indecision...

This is the inner side of my life. Let’s have a look at the outer side. When you have your resident permit, you need to learn language. Even if you have finished 3 different university courses, you need to know language. If you don’t you can’t adaptate, and even worse, you are good for nothing... The best way to learn a language is to go to a language course. As matter of fact, I am a student too. I wake up at 6.30am every morning, leave the children to the kindergarten, and head to the subway station. I add another sleepless day to my days. Lives of women here are almost the same with mine, but we have different points of view.

I try to act the victim being lonely with the east culture in my DNA, feeding from the pain. But women here continue their lives with only their families. They are active in every part of life. Mastered at painting, shoveling snow, cleaning parks, knitting socks for their children, women here are active in every part of life.

These women know their responsibilities, hang their businesswomen role after work. Showing their children their good mother role and teaching them kindness, they helped me to adapt here.

No Lies, They Live Rightful

My neighbor is in her 70s. I saw her taking her mails from her mailbox at 5.30 in the morning. Waking up early is adapted in people’s lives in this country.

TVs in the houses, closed almost all time.

Making noise after 10.00 pm is forbidden.

Shopping centers are closed around 6pm.

You can’t any children after 5pm outside. Children generally sleep until 8pm.

You can see people starting from 6am, going to school or work.

Babies don’t cry often. You can’t see a parent getting mad at their children, also children turning mad their parents.

We were invited to a clown house when we first came here. Tens of clowns made shows and collected donations. After the show, one of the clowns wanted to distribute the bananas weren’t sold. But none of the kids in the clown house were willing to eat bananas. My children were extremely happy to have free bananas, although they are eating bananas every day. They filled their hands with bananas. My little son cried for another banana, holding one in his hand. My daughter wanted more bananas, trying to finish the one in her hand…

Children also have to obey the rules in this country. Waiting on the line for swing, or insisting to get something they shouldn’t, mothers never capitulate. Children organize the things they disorganized with their mothers and leave as they found.

One of the days we went to gym, one of the older kids bothered my daughter and pinched her arm. My daughter came to my crying, the kid’s mother also came to say sorry. She made his son apologize too.

These people makes great effort to repair a mistake. They don’t use round responds and live a rightful life. They wake up early and sleep early, using the outer external factors as tools not targets.

And, the most important part for me: They never highlight the religion. They never lie.

Child Car Seat, 135 cm

My daughter suffered from her tooth for a couple of days. I couldn’t take her to a doctor as she insisted to not to go. After her teacher said ‘’She had toothache today, you must take her to a doctor.’’ I decided to go. It’s better to call for an appointment but I can’t catch what people say on the phone. So I headed to the hospital the next day. They gave me an appointment for the same day. I went home happily after finished my other works.

My daughter was crying, couldn’t take herself from scaring of the dentist. My little son is noisy as always, tried to find something to make him busy. My older son started higgling, I want to get in too, I want to see what they will do! Everyone around was staring at us. We got into the dentist’s room in a mood of ‘mix salad’. With the assistant, we were 6 people in the room. My daughter cried loudly, started to say ‘’I don’t want to sit there!’’ I gave the tablet PC to the boys and focused on my daughter. Tried to convince her to sit there. After promising to never leave her hands, the operation to fill a tooth started and finished right in front my eyes. And our tooth problem was over.

On the way out, we higgled again for chips, chocolate, surprise eggs… I made my warnings as always when we got in the car, made them wear their seatbelts. We just got on the way, and a police car started to follow us. The officer may found us so cute, he started to send signals. I didn’t understand it first, but then I realized that those signals were for us. I pulled off and the officer made his first warning: Please stop when you see a police car behind you, lighting signals, you must pull off. I was a little scared, I got lather. I was trembling inside…

He asked for my driver licence first and children’s id cards. And the second warning came: Children are important for us, they must wear their seatbelts. The height is not 135 cm, you must two more child seats.

‘’Child car seat caused all these mess?’’ I said to myself. He was right. They don’t accept anything symbolic, they have standards. Standards are for applying in Europe. The officer takes care of the children and warns us for the child seats.

‘’I will only warn you for this time. If they take the seatbelt off, stop driving. Buy your child seats.’’ and he warned children to not to stand while talking to the officer.

We thanked and left, I couldn’t feel my knees later. I made a U turn and went to see Annica. She gave me a piece of paper and said ‘’There is a free second-hand bazaar between 18:00-19:00. You can find something there.’’

I didn’t understand anything. Why for free? Is it today?

I went to the place at the time and hugged the child seat waiting for me. All my troubles were gone that moment. My children took some of the free toys. . I felt like I shopped from the heaven.

The next day, there was a child seat in front of my door. Dear Annica, told about it to dear Kata, and my two dear friends gave child seats. Thanks to them, I had 4 child seats without paying any money.

I, kind of terrified because of the police officers in my country, awaiting to salute the police officers of this kind country.

Crazy Turks, Calm Europeans

The only thing I needed was someone to adopt me when I came this country. In Turkey, people look at Syrian emigrants like they don’t want them. I am talking about it.

I have a reverse situation. People smiled and said ‘don’t bother’ when I went to a library and my children went side to side, making noises. I don’t remember how many times I apologized, but the respond was always the same with a smile: no problem.

My dear flight attendant friend Kata, texted me that she doesn’t have flights in next two months and she wants to invite us for Wednesday. I, always the quickest and never learnt to take something easy, sent the answer with smiles: Ok, what time?

Kata, is the woman who held my hand in the refugee camp, I met while she was an intern in the same camp. And now, she is inviting us to her house. I was wondering about her house and where does she live on the way. I realized that we were visiting a family above the population standards.

Kata welcomed us with a big smile on her face. She called her three children, older than my children, to the sitting room to meet. Her smile on her face when I gave her the flowers I bought, recalled spring.

All toys in the house were in front of my children. Kata’s daughter took children to the game room and they played all together. My little children met with Katas’ little hamster. Then we all had dinner. At the dinner, I saw the thing what it had to be the same, but I never did. Creamy mushroom stuffed crepes was the meal, creamy crepes with strawberries was the desert. And tea… That’s all. After the meal, Kata played her piano and sang children songs with us.

After two magical hours we had, I asked for permission to leave. Kata’s children gave my children Easter gifts. I hugged her, and could say nothing but ‘thank you very much’ as there was a knot in my throat…

Kata, gave us the wolds that day.

Next week, Linda came for new-house visit with her two sons. It was her first time visiting our house. She was in front of the door at the time we discussed. Annica also came. Linda gave children toys, and gave me fresh bread and salt as symbols of plentifullness in their culture.

I cooked too many things for my visitors… Trying to express Turkish hospitality. But they took little pieces from all kinds of meals. They just tasted them. For two hours, children played. After that they left with best wishes.

We had Turkish people meeting program last weekend, between 14.00-17.00 clocks. Including me, we all arrived at the restaurant at about 15.00. I saw that, none of us could finish our plates. We couldn’t take ourselves from talking. At about 18.30 we decided to combine all tables together. We left the restaurant at about 20.00. While taking photographs, I recalled European hospitality.

I think we, the Turks, are successful with dancing the halay and other folkloric figures. We are crazy Turks.

Europeans are experts of tango and waltz, which are esthetically on the forefront.

We have so much to lean from Europeans, who solved the time waste problem.

Immigration Office

September 11th, 2017

It had been a month since we came to this country. After the first week, I started going out with my children. Market, park, bazaar etc. Our adaptation process was short. My little son make noise all the time… Except that, we are all good. I think we got used to it.

One of the interviews with the immigration office is done. An appointment with a nanny is already made, to take care of my children when I am away for the interview. So I headed to the office with a clear mind…

A free travel card in my pocket, for today, I was in the office right on time. They took me to the interview without waiting. There are an inspector and a translator in the room. The translator translates the conversations, while the inspector records them. The inspector is so relaxed, makes me feel relax. Being under care in a foreign country as a refugee makes me feel happy and dragged me into the deep thoughts about my country. It was like, there was a psychologist in front of meç

Two people in the same statue, we talked. He listened to my story with my documents. The he wanted me to ‘explain’. A sample of my columns on a newspaper, bank account document, health assurance documents… Everything put me in danger in my country. They just listened in this interview.

In the second interview, they asked questions, asked about the events.

In those times, chocolates were protested in my country. There were no one doesn’t like the chocolate wafers, but people stabbed those wafers and hanged.

During the interview, I talked about my people attacking on wafers. I felt that the inspector didn’t understand (like I did) and finished my words by saying ‘’Imagine people, attacking on wafers, attacking on us.’’ About shift ending time, the inspector summarized his notes and we both signed. This part of the process is done!

It’s time run to the subway, to my children. I feel like I need to hug them immediately…

Our new life just started. Next step, living in a Settled Refugee Camp.

The Key

January 17th, 2018

The door was knocked this morning. Sanna, one of the camp officials, came. I immediately wore my slippers. She was surprised. I thought she came to remind me my duty-cleaning turn. Didn’t let her talk, I directly headed to the staff room to take cleaning stuff and asked her to open its door.

‘’We are going to sign a contract.’’ said Sanna. I stopped. ‘’I’m so stupid!’’ I said. Well, I wanted to make an image of how my moves changed so deeply and how I made things so inner...

I don’t go out often. Barely. So I wouldn’t see the things other countries’ Muslims do. The things, never gets along with a Muslim. I never visit the camp office if I am not in a serious trouble; it was already full with the people goes there in every 3 minutes.

And in the process of moving a house, I was like a dead body in dead-washers hands.

As long as I was playing the dead one, my expectations got lower. I knew it would be much more quickly if I make it harder. But I never did, considering how much hard I got, I never made things harder.

And what happened today?

We made the last things to do with Sanna. The conrtact is signed, and they gave me the key. I wasn’t waiting for this. My eyes filled with tears…

Like discharged prisoners…

I have lived so many things in a year. All are memories now, passing in front of my eyes.

My refugee camp life, was ending.

I was scared. In a country, I don’t the language, I was scared of holding life with three little children.

I wasn’t looking scared, though.

Considering what I had in this long year, I feel like I reached to the presence from absence.

I tasted the secret of weakness, and realized how delicious it is.

I prayed God. I never wanted the key in my hands to be changed with the key of weakness.

In my lifetime, being Yousef was written for 11 months. I bended my neck down for the ones, whose being Yousef time is not ended yet…

The ones who had the key of weakness payed with their lives and went away quietly.

And I? Oh I…

May I survive? Despite of staying away from all people, without any friend, renting a house in a city I don’t know and leaving this worldly life… Could I stay alive?

I realized.

This path is too long. And there sure are deep waters…

They Have no Tombstones...

February 11th, 2017

They perform ablution minutes before their death. Their preparations are ready for the place they’ll go…

The ones in the world lose them. Their lives are like a bridge between the world and the heavens, lightning conductors.

They are lessons for tomorrow. They are buried quietly, slowly…

The earth, accepts them with an expression of ‘’I’m next…’’ And friends get deeper than ever, hearts accept it.

And we, those left behind; prayers on our mouths, patience in our hearts, deep looks in our eyes, half breathes in our lungs, pains in our lives…

They have won. Their lines are organized. Yet the lines in their funeral prayer are so little…

They have no tombstone. They have wooden tombstones.

Their precious fund is their faith, of course there are conclusions.

My father’s life is over, but his fight is not. Says the Saint of the sons... While some get rebellious, losing the most beloved, some keep being patient and never have break down.

The flag never falls, it flaps.

 

It flaps and gives hope for the end, the end of the slander.

Hopes inside, standing straight outside!